Remember Me
by Kaitlyn Barnes
Summary: Leigh-Anne is a teenager with a strong disease that only Finley Marshall can work out. Their friendship will blossom, and so their future love. But the only question that Fin can ask is: Remember me?
1. Chapter 1

I walk sluggishly through the corridor toward my first classroom. My Calculus class is the only class I find I can despise: I hate the teacher, and most of all, it is first on a Monday morning. I glance up as I sit down, and look back down to pull my book and notebook from my bag. I unravel a piece of paper from one of the separators and I scrunch it up, throwing it to the bin: it hits, and falls into the bin. I sigh with relief at not having to get up. I chew on my lip and look around the bare walls, then to the students and then to the teacher: Mr Yemmen.

The classroom screams at me, "someone new's approaching" and I look up as soon as a small, thin girl walks in the room. She is clutching onto her book as if it's her life, and looks awfully confused and shy. She looks up as the teacher smiles politely at her. She doesn't return the smile and immediately whips around to look at our rowdy class. She wrings her hands around her stomach and sighs, pausing before walking on. The teacher quickly calls her back and she looks back at him, her hair whipping as she does. I glance up at the girl again before I scribble something in the notebook with the plain black cover I've had since the beginning of the year.

I've never written in it since.

Her large green eyes – clearly glossy: she'd been crying – look up at Mr. Yemmen and she bites her lip. Her small mouth opens as if to speak, and then shuts it shyly. She is shown to a table. He's pointing next to me? I sigh and look up at the girl. Her hair swings around her ribs as she walks, rubbing against the large jacket she is wearing. I glance up at her – clearly mesmerised – before watching her walk to my table. I clear my throat and look down, acting subtle before taking a glance at her as a welcome.

"Hey." I say. She looks up and smiles as she sits down beside me. I run a hand through my hair and glance back down at my book. "I'm Finn. And you are?" She looks at me through thick eyelashes and smiles softly. I bite my lip and glance down at my mobile phone as it vibrates in my jean pocket. I flick through the messages as she takes the time to speak. For a moment, I take a look round at her, craning my head slightly to give myself a better look. She clearly feels my eyes on her and she gives me a bashful smile.

"My name's Leigh. Leigh-Anne, but my mom prefers Leigh. I was born Leigh, but my dad liked Leanne. They compromised." She explains – almost in a ramble - and then repeats it as if she never said it. I bite my lip again and look up at her, as she continues to speak. Her voice is soft like velvet, and she sits more comfortably in the chair, placing her book down on the desk before looking over at me. The corners of the book are tattered and folded over. The whole book in total is kind of a mess, but I take no double take for a bit, until I find the conversation has died and I stare at the book with intent in finding an element of conversation swinging within the elements of the air.

Water damage: and I would know. The cover of the book looks almost burned, but then again mine isn't in the best of shape. It is half way through the year so by this point, many people struggle to keep their books half way decent for the teachers to see by the end. Most teachers don't make the students pay for replacements after the damage. They just let us keep the ones we've damaged. "Sorry, what did you say your name was?" She asks, biting her lip. I look up, then back down and I narrow my eyes, sighing slightly before rubbing my leg. She meets my gaze before I clear my throat and answer her question.

I can see her look up in the corner of my eye as I speak again, and I smile, "My name? Oh, it's Finn. It's nice to meet you." I say with slight confusion lingering in my voice. I put the phone away as the teacher skims past the desk, continuing to walk on before walking down the same path, but on the other side of the room. His eyes are gray and they look rather dead, rather bored. They stare at his students quickly and then to something else in the room like it would never happen again. I find it quite confusing but I've been in his class for so long it doesn't really affect any of us anymore.

"And you, Finn?" She says, and looks over at me. "Finn is right, isn't it?" She asks nervously and wrings her hands in her lap. I look down at her hands, then back up at her face and nod once. She is beautiful: not that it makes any difference because she's the new girl. The new girl is always picked on no matter what the circumstance. Judging by her lack of memory, she was going to be bullied a lot. I pause and look up at her again, remembering I have to speak.

"Yeah: it's Finn. Look, Leigh, do you have anyone to sit with at lunch? It's just that – because you're the new girl – you may possibly be picked on: the girls over in the corner over there do it. Look over, but be subtle." I whisper and she does, leaning on her hand. Her skin is pale and her veins show clearly in her phalanges. I bite my lip again as she turns back around to look at me.

"Their skirts are so short… Very pretty…" She murmurs in wonder and looks down at her hands, wringing her fingers awkwardly. I chuckle: they are not pretty and do not deserve anybody's attention. I swallow back the words I want to say and look at her. She looks nervous and she is still wringing her hands. I want to see how cold her skin is, but I resist the urge and look at the work I have been given. "But it must be bad to have skirts as short as that, right?" She asks in a bit of bewilder and purses her lips, resting her hands on her thin legs. I nod and look back at the girls with the 'belt skirts' and smack my lips together. The smell of smoke still lingers on my lips from my breakfast cigarette and I sigh in a bit of disgust.

"It's almost a death threat over here. It's a small town, so, there's no point in dressing up and looking fabulous for school because – at the end of the day – no one really pays any attention to you here, well, apart from those three. Listen to the names and remember them: Alice, Chloẽ, and Jehmima," I say to her, and she nods, looking as if she can process them. She looks in bewilder again and bites her lip. I know she's forgotten, so I write them down and hand them to her in a simple note form she would remember. She takes the paper in a glance and puts it deep in her pocket. I smile and she slowly returns it nervously, looking down at her pocket.

"Do you want to be my friend, F-Finn?" She asks with confusion still lingering in her voice. I nod and smile. The problem is with it, is that I already have many friends: friends that go to clubs, smoke drugs and drink alcohol. I sigh and run a hand through my hair. She clearly got the message I didn't even need to say and she looks away from me. "You don't and that's fine. I'm the new girl; you already have your own friends." She explains to me and I shake my head, moving over to grip her hand. She looks startled and pulls it away from my grip, sighing around the same time I do.

"I'm sorry, Leigh. I'm not used to having normal friends." I say and press my lips together, scribbling something down into my notebook. She stares at me and almost laughs. I look back at her and I frown. I didn't know she isn't normal, I didn't know. But I don't regret saying what I said. I rub my thumb against my stubbly chin and she smiles softly. I grew early. My growth spurts were at the age of, like, eleven, and I struggled to stop growing for almost four years afterward. I'm just eighteen now, so it kind of works wonders for my friends and I.

"I'm not normal, Finn. I'm not." She assures, and I slowly nod, running a hand through her waves to set them messily onto her head. I feel myself feeling embarrassed and blush slightly in the cheeks, resting my chin on my hand. She sighs and takes my hand lightly in hers, rubbing the back of it with her thumb. "You don't have to be embarrassed. I'm normal if you want to speak of drugs, smoking and alcohol, but when I tell you exactly what I have –…" I stop her and blurt out, leaning forward on my hands to inspect her closely.

"Is it an abusive dad? Leigh, is it an alcoholic mum? Do you need me to help you out? Or maybe you need money. What?" I blurt. She shakes her head and lets out an adorable giggle I smile at. "Oh. Sorry." I chuckle and look at her. "What is it, Leigh?" She presses her lips together and takes her hand away from mine. My skin tingles lightly with the cold of her skin and she looks down at her hands.

"I have, I have, and I have Creutzfeldt - Jakob disease. It's a disease to the brain. I'm meant to get it when I'm sixty but because of the heriditary values of it, I got it when I was seventeen. I'm almost eighteen but the symptoms say I might not live for a year. Maybe not even that. I'm not normal and I think we have established that now, okay?" She rambles for a bit, and I smile at her, looking at me. "Why are you looking at me?" She says and bites her lip.

"I think you're adorable, Leigh, but don't tell anyone I said that, okay?" I smile and look at her for a moment, then up at the clock in the corner of the room – watching it tick, tock, tick, tock for about two minutes before my eyes flitter to the bell on the wall above the door as it rings through the room, making most of the people in the room jump before they all shove their stuff into bags and walk out, taking an assignment sheet from the teacher.

Leigh looks at her sheet and sighs, pushing another hand through her hair. I watch her and run a hand through my own hair. I press my lips against the back of my hand and glance up at the ceiling as I look at my own. It is easy, and the questions – my Goodness. Leigh looks over at me and blushes in embarrassment. There is a small smile on her face and then she hands it to me to have a look at. It is the same sheet; and I frown.

"It's not that difficult." I explain and then look at her. Her brow is furrowed and she looks awfully confused. I sigh and push a hand through my hair. The girl confuses me. You shouldn't get involved with her. She looks like bad news. My brain continues to mess with my thoughts, making me feel sick and awkward as we continue to walk toward the outside world: where everyone I know is, and the feeling is normal and content.

A few people glance up in my direction and take a good look of Leigh. I sigh and walk toward the crowd – Leigh follows me, her feet draping behind her and bag sluggish on her shoulder. I sit down in the circle we form and she sits down beside me. Her hand collides with my forearm to hold her up and she looks up into my eyes, and I see nothing. She confuses me.

I bite my lip and gently move her hand away from my arm in an effort to let her have her own freedom, before leaning back on my hands and closing my eyes. Isaac is playing some awful music by some band that I have never heard of. I steal his MP3 Player and change the song while he is tapping along on his notebook, using two twigs from the fallen tree beside us.

Isaac looks up and glares at me, shoving his hand over my stomach to steal it back. I chuckle and shake my head, running a hand through my hair. Leigh looks between the two of us and an idea strikes in my head. It becomes more of a solution before anything. I scramble in my bag for the same plain black covered notebook with the 249 blank pages – only because I used one in calculus - and move around to sit beside her a bit more. I see her look over at me and then a frown appears on her face. I chuckle softly and I write a few things down in the notebook I had scrambled for.

_Alice, Chloẽ__, and Jehmima: The evil girls you will always hate.  
Isaac, Finn (The person you borrowed this notebook from) and Reese: The best people you will ever meet.  
And yourself: your name is Leigh. (Me. (This is if you ever forget.))_

I smile as she takes it from me and has a look, biting her lip as she hums softly. "Thank you…" She scans over the names and sees my name in my awful handwriting, "Finn." She says confidently and kisses my cheek. I dismiss it and look at her with a polite smile while Isaac looks at me with a shocked impression planted on his annoying face before he looks back at the speaker he uses, and switches the song so that we are all content with it.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you all for the 80 READS I have on the first chapter. If you are going to read chapter two, you may notice the difference. Well, I changed it after having not much inspiration, changed the characters to originals and boom :P Problem solved.

Love you all! :D

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Chapter Two:

Leigh and I have been seeing each other every now and then to update the notebook I have started for her. She understands a lot and is starting to be able to recall my name without having to refer back to the book. Her brain condition definitely has a kilter on our friendship, but that's okay because she's fun to have around; though her memory can have an effect on people, like Reese. He seems to have this _thing_ for her whom she never seems to understand, and I have to explain every now and then to get to her to remember who Reese is. She has told him she doesn't like him like that, and he took it into consideration.

Leigh walks out of her last period English class with her rucksack neatly on her back like every-day. She has her notebook for class, and the one I had given her in her arms, and a smile painted on her face as she sees me. She walks up and wraps one of her arms around my neck in a friendly hug, and one of my arms wrap around her waist to return the hug. She smiles against my shoulder – I can feel it – and pulls back to look at me. Our eyes meet and she smiles bashfully, before biting her lip and her hands move away from her lingering position on my shoulders. I get the message and let go of her, she presses her lips together in a smack, and crosses her arms elegantly over her chest.

"How was English?" I ask and we walk toward the exit of the school, walking through the doors and down the stairs while people hustle around the door – buying and trading cards, money, and the occasional cigarette I don't buy anymore. A few people call my name but I pay attention to Leigh as she looks around, before returning back to the conversation to be able to answer it.

"It was alright. It was English, I suppose, and we watched a bit more of Romeo & Juliet. I sat next to Reese but he wouldn't stop talking." She laughs softly and then shifts the books so they're underneath her arm. I take them from her and smile, running a hand through my hair as we continue to walk. I walk her home every-day: she has these memory blips about places too, so I wrote down her address about a week ago so she could recall that too.

"That's fair, I suppose." I walk with her and cross my arms over my chest while the books I carry for her slip underneath in my hand. She looks up at me and smiles, a wholehearted smile and then looks on, her hands fiddling with the fringing on the cardigan she wears. My eyes slowly run over her, and I smile. She's beautiful when she's nervous. She's got this long, beautiful collection of dark – chocolate – brown hairs that fall down her shoulders and back. Her eyes stare into mine whenever she smiles, and they're a bright green that make you melt whenever you look into them. Her skin is pale, but it's contrasted by her hair – it being a dark shade and all. Her body is thin, but at the same time she has curves in all the right places – she's perfect – and it kills me.

She smiles and tucks some of the waves beneath her ear as the breeze picks up around us. "Look, Leigh, can I ask you a question?" I ask and rub my hands together, and she looks around, brushing a hand over her own arm to warm herself up slightly. She looks up at me with melting green eyes and smiles, nodding slowly.

"Of course, Finn." She says with a smile still on her face. Her face looks kind of confused as she looks up, but we continue to walk on, and down the alley path that leads us to her house.

"I wondered whether you wanted to come with me, to a party at the weekend. I mean, it's a proper party but I think you deserve some cred, don't you think?" I ask and dig my hands into my pockets as my eyes meet hers again. She smiles and nods in agreement, before looking on, toward her house. "I mean, do you have to ask?" I ask.

She nods, "Most likely." She says and then nothing else is said until we reach the front door of her house. "Thank you for walking me home again, Finn. It's been great company." She says softly and uses her key from her pocket to open the door, and push it slightly so it opens fully and she can walk inside. She does so, and leans on the door way, facing me. I nod briefly and shrug, digging my hands back into my pockets with a small smile.

"No problem, Leigh." I say with ease, and look at her once more before she waves and shuts the door. It's been two weeks; and I don't know what is happening to me. Something drastic and crazy and I can't control it. Never have I felt this way about a girl before and it's driving me to the point of craziness. I look around and feel as if something is looking at me. I know something isn't, because I feel the wind. It's just the wind. It's just the wind.

Shit.

I feel myself going insane.

I need to call someone and now before I lose my mind. I can't call Reese, because he'll know how I feel about Leigh. I can't call my dad: he'll tease me. I'll call my mom. I start toward the meadow and rocks where I sit when I call my mom. Dad doesn't know about it yet and I plan to keep it that way, and that's the difficulty.

**Flashback. – NOT UPSETTING, JUST HURTFUL THEME. SKIP TO NEXT BOLD TEXT -**

_"__Finley, sweetheart?" I hear my mother call. Her long deep, brown hair had fallen out months ago, and she was laying pale in her bed, dad by her side. I run with my aeroplane into the room and look at her. She is lying underneath the deep red covers, and her quilted blanket is covering her limbs. She looks cold, and dad is turning up the heating again. The air con goes down, the heat goes up. And we don't complain. _

_Her normal green eyes look drained, and she looks awfully tired, which now is normality in life. She moves forward slightly with dads help and kisses my forehead, her lips cold and broken up against my forehead. "I love you." She whispers and lays back, her chest hurting. I figured this during the time she would clutch her chest and call for dad. I don't know what to do when she does, so I watch. Dad seems distressed but they never tell me what's wrong, so I have to sit back. I talk to Grandma, I distract myself from my mother's pain, yet I can't. I can't watch her in pain, no matter how hard it is to ignore it. _

_Even my magical kisses didn't help: she was ill. She holds a hand to her forehead until she becomes too tired and she drops the hand, feeling awfully chill underneath my own hand as I put it softly to her forehead. "I want you to promise me something, Finn, okay?" She says croakily to me, and I nod slowly, clambering up onto the bed after putting my aeroplane down on the floor. Dad picks it up and puts it in mom's lap, letting her have it for a minute to hold. She gives it back to me and then smiles softly, her lips spreading a small smile once more, before pursing back into their cracked, small pout. _

_I then reach out for her hand, and she takes it tightly in hers, rubbing the back of my hand with her icy cold thumb. "Please promise me, whoever walks into your life: you'll let them stay. You'll hold them and keep them safe, even if they're in danger themselves. That you'll look after your father, and you'll go to college somewhere near by? That you'll have a family and marry a beautiful girl?" She whispers in my ear, and I nod. I nod slowly, taking the words in before pulling back and planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. She smiled and held my face in her cold hands, looking for my answer. My answer was in my eyes, yet she was too tired and exhausted to see. So I had to explain. _

_I knew I should say I will. That was the least she deserved. I looked into her beautiful, pale green eyes and I swallowed back a pained sob, "Of course. I love you, mom." I say softly against her cheek and climb off the bed, walking back into my room after picking up my aeroplane. Later in the evening, I heard choked sobs from my parents' room. I frown and drop my things on the floor – though mom told me not to – and I wander to the door way. Dad was sat, cradling my mother's body. She had died that evening during the time I'd been eating. _

_I didn't know what to do. The woman that held me, gave birth to me, kissed me, bathed me, and hugged me: dead; of course not. Not in my mind: not ever. I looked back before running back into my room and shutting my door. It was late in the evening, so I locked the lock on my door and pushed my heavy book case toward the door, making sure no one could get in. I was done for the rest of the month. There was two weeks left of the holidays. All I had to do was get through…_

- **PRESENT DAY -**

My mother died back when I was seven, of lung cancer, and I have never been able to let go. I always come down to the meadow when I'm feeling like something isn't right. And something isn't right. I sit down on the rock and throw my rucksack down on the grass, squashing the flowers beneath it as it hits the floor. I look down at the flowers and sigh with despair, before shifting my bag onto the rock, letting the flowers almost push themselves back off the ground without a care.

That is the good thing about flowers. If a weight pushes them down, they get back up. They push themselves, even if they're missing a couple petals or a leaf. They don't care. I watch the flowers slowly spring up and then lay my head back, hands under my head. Thoughts run through my head about my mother, but I can't help and try and reach her once more, before I go off to college. I think people would find me strange if I'm talking to my non-existent mother in my college dorm. I sigh and take a deep breath, before looking up.

"Mom, are you out there?" I ask after a few minutes and rub my legs with the palms of my hands as I feel them become moist with the sweat that leaks out of my pores. I sigh and look down at the ground, before looking up at the blue sky. A few clouds spread across the sky, and hide the sun. I lay back, and lay my hands behind my head, biting my lip. "Mom, I've got something wrong with me. How… Is it possible to love a girl that barely remembers where she lives? I know she remembers me, because she tells me she does…" I sigh and shut my eyes.

I feel a breeze kick up a fuss around me and I smile slightly, knowing she's listening, "But I don't know… Every time I'm around her, I stop breathing for a second. My heart skips a beat and I just find myself in an epiphany, and it makes me feel amazing." I sigh and run a hand over my hair as it flops back against the rock. I glance around before laying my head back again, "And, she's so beautiful. She's got the most perfect eyes, mom. I can just stare at them and I fall in love all over again. I'm lost without her around me. But, is two weeks enough to know?"

I shrug and then look up at the sky again, my eyes slowly following the clouds as they drift along the sky. "She's so clumsy as well, mom. Brave, from what I've seen too." I continue. "You'd like her." Is what I finish with before I hear a breath hitch from behind me. Leigh, shit. I pause and look round, seeing her naïve figure behind me. "Leigh, wait!" I call as she turns to run. She'd heard all of it. Every single bit, yet I still find the confusion of why she would be running – if I were to be complimenting her. I run, leaving my bag behind, until I catch up with her and hold my chest.

"Why…" She asks me and whips round so she's facing me. "Why do you lie?" She breathes heavy, and I watch her from my position, almost crouched, and bent over with my hands on my knees. I look up at her and frown, "Why do you lie to your mother about people?" She whispers and walks closer. "I thought we were friends, Fin." She says quietly and shifts her bag onto her other shoulder. Her deep brown hair – just like my mother's – gets caught, and I risk the urge to pull it out gently. I do. And I gently twirl it around my finger before I let it drop.

"I promised my mother something before she died." I say quietly, my breathing still slightly heavy. "I promised her that I wouldn't let people walk out of my life for stupid reasons, and that I would make good choices. Be brave." I say, almost in a plead to her, letting her know how I feel with every syllable leaking out of my lips, past my teeth in a small vibration as they are gritted. "I promised her and I can't let you walk out of my life, not after I tell Reese what I'm rambling about now." I say and bend over again, rubbing my face with a groan.

She walks forward – and I can hear from the cracks of twigs beneath her feet – and tilts my head up before crouching in the same position, "I'm dangerous, Fin." She says softly and lets me go, before continuing to walk on, toward what I assume is home. I sigh and run my hands through my hair, letting out a cry in failure. The first girl I like. The first girl I'd be willing to wait a million years for, the girl I trust. She just leaves me completely. I hear the wind pick up again, and I push my hand over my hair to tame it before kissing my fingers, letting them go to the air above me.

"I love you too, mom." I say.

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